


Cursed

by FairyNiamh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Curses, Humor, M/M, Not Beta Read, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyNiamh/pseuds/FairyNiamh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is not happy with his situation, not happy at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the image found at http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/1212176.html

Stiles' plan was simple, easy, and damned near fool. He would slip in the back door, and then run upstairs when no one was looking. Get to his room and find a way to fix this mess.

He envied the wolves and their ability to just jump on the roof and slip into his room. If only it had been that easy for him. Of course, he was never ever that lucky. The next time he saw Scott or Derek, he would give them a piece of his mind!

He quickly made his way into the backdoor. Once he was inside the house, he crouched as low as he could and slowly made his way across the kitchen. He could hear someone… no, he could hear people in the other room, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

The light came on and Stiles hid in the first place he came to. Holding perfectly still, he was Batman, he was ninja, no one could see him.

"What do you mean, 'Stiles is missing?' How in the hell did you guys lose him? It's not like he's tiny. Was he kidnapped?" he heard his father frantically ask. He wanted to snort at the two idiots had their asses handed to them.

"We were checking on a possible witch. One minute he was there… then… poof, he wasn't. It didn't make sense. We could still smell him, kind of, but it was different. It's hard to explain." Scott rambled. Jeez, he really wanted to hurt his idiot best friend.

"Derek?"

"I think she cursed him," he said bluntly, his nose sniffing the air.

"Cursed? Scott, did Derek just say that a witch cursed my son?"

"Oops," came Scott's meek reply. Yeah, Stiles owed his best friend a good old-fashioned ass kicking.

"I think it is possible, that the reason we lost him, is because he did not want to be found," the born wolf said cautiously.

Stiles, being an expert hider and not being able to see the wolf, did not notice Derek pointing him out.

John did what any father would do in that situation, snort and shake his head at the prank the duo were attempting to pull on him. Scott, on the other hand, had all the tact of a bull boar.

"Oh my… what the hell? Stiles?" he asked as he scooped the orange tabby from his excellent hiding spot. "Is that really you?"

Lacking the ability to talk, he did the next best thing; he growled and took a swipe at the idiot's face. One down, one to go.

"That is not Stiles; and this is not funny," John groaned.

'Okay, make that two more idiots to go. Way to not recognize your own son,' he thought as he escaped Scott's grip with a few well-placed scratches. Then he walked over to where his Dad kept the whiskey, knocked it down (shattering it…oops), and then he attacked his old man's feet.

"Shit! Enough, I'm sorry. Derek, is there any way to reverse this?"

Derek looked like a deer caught in the headlights, "Umm, I'm a werewolf, I don't know all that much about witches," was his confession.

Which, okay, that totally pissed him off, because he had researched like crazy to find out everything he could about witches, that meant that the bumbling idiots had not read his printouts… and that meant punishment.

Tonight's punishment brought to you by cat attacking groin. Fun for the whole family.

"Stiles! Let go of Derek's crotch, Derek, keep your wolf in check. Do either of you two morons have any more bright ideas?"

"We could ask Deaton?"

Of course that would be Scott's first thought… no, Deaton was probably his second thought. He wisely did not suggest Allison. Possibly out of fear of Stiles' newfound claws.

"Derek, you drive, time to take my son to the Vet. No worried son, I won't let them neuter you… but keep it under warps. Mrs. Hansson's Siamese cat is in heat… you don’t want to lose your v-card in this form." John informed him as he gathered him to his chest.

For the first time, he was glad he had been cursed. His fur hid his blushing and his lack of vocal cords kept that secret safe.

The ride to the vet was… longer than normal. The hum of the engine and the steady thumping of his father's heart lulled him into a wonderful slumber. 

He came to, when something cold was put inside his ass. Oh hell no, he was not brought here to be sodomized by a perverted doctor. Like with the other three idiots around, he lashed out in displeasure. Biting and scratching at the doctor's hand.

His dad pulled the thermometer from his ass, while the Vet glared at the orange demon on his table. "You're sure this is Stiles?"

"I doubt you would appreciate being woke up with an anal probing," John said mildly.

"It smells mostly of Stiles."

"Perhaps you are the first were-housecat. We'll have to wait it out and see what's going to happen to you. I suggest you go home, rest, and I'll get in contact when I find out anything."

So that was exactly when they did.

Three days (and so many scratches) later Deaton had found the solution. A kiss from Stiles' heart desire.

This lead to a very awkward conversation between John and Derek. Not that Stiles, was privy to it. Besides, he needed some serious human food and some serious revenge. Next time Derek or Scott transformed, it would be kibbles for them, and his Dad was on a diet of Grapenuts, Shredded Wheat, and salads with a cod liver vinegar salad dressing.

They would pay for depriving him of delicious food while they ate burgers in front of him.

Forget a woman scorned, hell hath no fury (and wrath) than stiles being kept from his burgers and curly fries.

~Fin~


End file.
